Autonomy
by redrachxo
Summary: Adze and Vlad both fight for the autonomy to make their own decisions in unlife. But, in the struggle for power as Vlad's coronation approaches, things aren't quite what they seem. Prompt from Werepuppy Black: What happened between Vlad and Adze in the DiF verse? Vladze. Part of the Darkness is Falling AU verse. Rated T for raciness and dark themes. Please R&R. xo
1. Chapter 1

**With thanks to HopeCoppice for encouraging me to write this and to Werepuppy Black for the prompt.  
**

**Hope you enjoy!  
**

**xo  
**

**Chapter 1  
**

'_I can see the desire in your eyes.'_

Of course there was desire in his eyes, with her dark eyes, pouting lips, flawless skin and black curls, Adze was absolutely beautiful. What male vampire wouldn't desire such a creature? Just because his body wanted her didn't mean that Vlad wasn't going to resist the match. He was seventeen for Lucifer's sake! He was far too young to enter into a commitment as serious as marriage. He had centuries of unliving to do before he settled down into marriage and parenthood. Not that he planned to ever settle down. No, Vlad had decided some time ago that marriage and parenthood were no-go areas for him. He had seen enough emotional wreckage from his parents' relationship to last him several millennia. He had no desire to repeat those mistakes in his own unlife. As for children... The prospect of bringing yet more bloodthirsty vampires into this world filled him with dread.

But if Vlad was in no hurry to rush down the aisle, his father was the exact opposite. The Count barely had a few months left as Regent, his power and influence were rapidly dissipating and this made him more dangerous than he had ever been before. It pained Vlad to consider his Dad as an enemy. No matter how fraught or difficult their relationship had been in the past, Vlad had never truly believed that his father would sacrifice his son's happiness to prove his authority. He kept thinking back to his thirteenth birthday. The Count had been so eager for Vlad to become a true vampire but in the end he chose Vlad's happiness over his own by trying to replace the Transylvanian bat blood. Even though his Dad had messed up, it had always comforted Vlad to know that he did care. Except now, he wasn't so sure.

* * *

Vlad stormed up and down the training room, a look of intense anger on his features. "Why can't I just say no?" He flung out his hand sending a bolt of lightning across the room in his frustration. "I'm the Chosen One. I shouldn't have to obey anyone!"

Bertrand shrugged. "You're not yet of age," he reminded Vlad. "As Regent your father is entitled to enter into contracts on your behalf. Including betrothals. Any decent lawyer would ensure that such a contract is still enforceable after the Regency has ended." He set aside the tome of vampire law that they were supposed to be studying. "Naturally, Ramanga will have invested in the best lawyers that gold can purchase."

Vlad made a sound of exasperation before flinging another bolt of lightning at the heavy stone walls.

Bertrand raised his eyebrows at this uncharacteristic show of temper. Still, given that his liberty was being threatened, it was hardly surprising that his protégée was demonstrating some of his more destructive tendencies. He calmly poured Vlad a mug of soy blood and pushed it across the table. "Sit," he commanded as the Dracula fledging continued to stride around.

The Chosen One threw himself onto the chair in an overdramatic fashion. "Bertrand, what am I going to do?" He raised pleading eyes to his tutor's face.

There were times when Bertrand was sharply reminded of Vlad's youth. For all his power and unique abilities, the Chosen One was still a seventeen old year boy and as such he was just as prone to a teenage tantrum as any other fangling. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Bertrand leant forward. "We play the game Vlad." He smiled in satisfaction as a flicker of hope entered the eyes of his charge.

* * *

"Catherine de' Medici." Her fiancé set the bottle of vintage blood down on the table and pulled up a chair.

Adze raised her perfectly arched eyebrows questioningly as she leant forward and picked up the bottle. Her fingers ran adoringly over the faded ink. "A fine vintage indeed." Her gaze flickered upwards to the face of her fiancé. His eyes, such a brilliant shade of sapphire blue, were focused on her. His rosebud of a mouth turned up slightly at the left corner in the promise of a smile. "I thought you didn't touch the stuff."

Vlad produced two glasses of cut crystal with a flourish. "I don't." He uncorked the bottle causing the rich scent of royal blood to waft towards her.

Adze breathed it in deeply. It was rare, even for a vampire as elevated as her, to drink a vintage of such quality. No doubt, the Dracula brat, as her father called him, was trying to show off. She watched intently as he carefully poured the blood, filling both glasses almost to the rim before sliding her glass across the smooth polished surface of the table. His cold fingers brushed against hers for briefest of moments and despite all her bad intentions Adze could feel a flicker of attraction igniting between them.

"However," Vlad continued, acting as if the touch were entirely accidental, "We are both puppets in the grand schemes of our fathers. I think they owe us a little something in return." He raised his glass and against her better judgment Adze followed suit.

* * *

After quite a few glasses of de' Medici, Adze found that the Dracula brat was surprisingly charming. Some of her earlier anger at this presumptuous little upstart was beginning to fade. Adze didn't want to marry him anymore than he wanted to marry her but that hadn't stopped her from being hurt and furious when she had found out about his protests against the match. He was only seventeen to her two hundred years, only a Count to her Princess and yet he had fought viciously against their betrothal. How dare he reject her? It didn't matter that he was supposedly the Chosen One, she was still of impeccable lineage and reputation, he should have been grateful to receive a bride like her. A girl had to have some pride after all and Adze Ramanga deserved better than to be cast over by an infamous wimpire.

First impressions mattered. At least, his sharply cut suit had indicated he understood that much. She had strived to look as beautiful as possible for their first meeting and although Vlad's face may have been trained into impassivity, there had been no mistaking the desire in his eyes. The Chosen One wanted her. Badly. And, perhaps, as she watched him laugh in the candlelight, dark hair falling into those gorgeous eyes, his elegant fingers spread out on the table so tantalising close to hers, perhaps she wanted him too.

As if he were reading her thoughts, Vlad's hand rose to caress her cheek, his touch sent electric shocks rippling across her skin. "You're so very beautiful." His voice was almost an awed whisper, his eyes seemed to be drinking in every detail of her appearance.

Adze didn't bother to thank him for stating the obvious. Instead she leant forward and pressed her lips against his. She was completely unprepared for the way he tasted, of blood and power, or for the skilled way in which his tongue teased hers. She found herself moaning as he deepened the kiss, was barely aware of glass shattering as the table separating them fell to the floor. Perhaps marriage to the Dracula brat wouldn't be so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! Delighted that you enjoyed the first chapter. So delighted that I couldn't resist writing up another one for you as soon as possible. I think this fic is going to be quite short – perhaps five chapters in length so don't worry about it turning into another beast like DiF!**_

_**Hope you like this one!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 2**

Ingrid leant against the doorframe and folded her arms aggressively across her chest. Her eyes critically examined the vampire before her. She raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question.

Bertrand held up a bottle. "Drink?" That one word was loaded with all sorts of delicious meanings.

A sneer curled Ingrid's red lips upwards. "Soy?" she asked contemptuously.

Bertrand's eyes flickered down to the prominent label on the bottle. A dark smile graced his lips as he slowly trailed his gaze over the curves of her body before finally meeting her cold, hard eyes. "Yes." If Ingrid didn't know better, she would have said that his smile was almost mischievous. He leant against the opposite side of the doorframe, tilting his body at such an angle that they were barely inches apart. "Thirsty?" The softness of his voice was like a caress. It made Ingrid shiver with temptation.

She glanced down at the cheap plastic bottle with its starkly white label. There was no way that Bertrand would ever turn up at her door with soy blood. However little she might trust him, she was certain of his exceptional taste when it came to food. "Perhaps." She gestured for him to come into her room. She deliberately kept her position obstructing most of the doorway and in return he deliberately brushed his body against hers, much closer than necessary to get past. She closed the door behind her firmly. Bertrand's hands settled on her hips, pulling her tight against the hardness of his body, his mouth kissed the bare skin of her shoulder, his lips pushing the chiffon material aside in a way that made her knees feel strangely weak. His stubble prickled against the smoothness of her throat and the contrast was so delightfully erotic that Ingrid had to swallow a moan of pleasure.

"Good." His mouth travelled upwards to nuzzle at her ear, strong teeth nibbling just hard enough, "Because I have a favour to ask."

* * *

Sighing heavily, Adze placed her chin in her hands and gazed moodily at the wall opposite her chair. Sitting around like a pretty ornament was nothing new to her, it was all part and parcel of being a princess. However, at least in Fortress Ramanga she had an entire court to entertain her and take care of her every whim. Here, there was only one servant - Renfield and he smelt worse than any breather she had ever encountered.

A knock on the door roused her from her gloomy thoughts. "Come in," she called, hoping that whoever it was they would help ease her boredom.

Vlad's head peeked around the door. Adze was surprised to find a spark of excitement lighting inside her at the sight of her fiancé. There was something about the wideness of his eyes, his moment of slight hesitation before he entered the room, the half smile hovering over his lips, something that made the younger vampire appear shy. It should have been laughable that the future Grand High Vampire was so enchanted by her beauty and yet she couldn't help thinking that it was rather adorable. She raised a hand to push an errant curl away from the neckline of her corset and watched with satisfaction as his eyes darkened in response. As she observed the awkward angle at which he was holding his hand behind his back, her own eyes narrowed in suspicion. A stake perhaps? Or a UV bomb? She had heard rumours of how Vlad's enemies all seemed to meet a rather dusty end.

"Oh." It took a few seconds but finally Vlad's attention was diverted from her tightly laced corset by her glowering face. He smiled then, a small, almost embarrassed smile before producing a bouquet of roses. "I got these for you."

The vivid red of the petals made her gasp with surprise. She leant forward in her seat for a closer look, her lips parting in a fascinated gasp. "But how?"

Vlad stepped closer, "Well, either I am so accomplished in the dark arts that I can control my destructive powers, or," He flicked a finger against one of the roses, a ceramic ping echoed around the room, "I dipped them in liquid nitrogen."

Adze held her hands out impatiently for the roses. She explored the cold, brittle petals with careful fingertips, delighting in the boldness of their colour and how it didn't fade away at her touch.

"Bit cheesy, I know." Vlad shrugged with exaggerated casualness. "I suppose I should come up with some line about how their beauty is like yours. Frozen in time or something ridiculous like that." He gestured around the plain, impersonal room that she was lodging in until they had sorted out the paperwork and performed the blood tea ceremony. "I just thought that you might appreciate something to make this place seem a bit more homely."

Adze laughed disbelievingly. "You want to make me welcome now?" She couldn't resist taunting him for the way he had fought against their match. The worst of her rage had subsided now, soothed away by the passionate kisses they had exchanged last night but the hurt and bitterness remained. Vampire princesses didn't forgive easily.

Vlad acknowledged his past behaviour with no more than a grimace. "I'll leave you." He shoved his hands into his leather jacket and moved towards the door.

"No! Wait!" Adze was just as shocked by the words coming from her mouth as her fiancé. He turned back towards her, an inquiring look on his face. She fiddled with the frozen flowers resting on her lap. "I'm bored," she admitted with a pout.

Vlad's gaze immediately flickered down to her glossy lips. That tiny movement was enough to send a thrill of anticipation through her body. She wondered if he would pick up where they had finished yesterday. The way he had kissed her, oh but the memory was enough to send shivers down her spine. She smiled gleefully as he reached out a pale hand. Placing her perfectly manicured hand within his, she let him pull her onto her feet. For someone so slim, he was surprisingly strong. Adze moved forward closing the gap between their bodies. She placed a possessive hand on his chest as his fingers wrapped themselves tightly around her other hand. In return, she ran her finger teasingly around a button on his shirt; the common breather fabric beneath her hands was rougher than satin but softer than leather. The Chosen One really did have some very odd ideas about fashion.

Vlad glanced out of the window and an eager smile suddenly lit up his face. "Fancy a trip outside?"

Adze's fingers curled tightly around the button, scrunching up the material of his shirt. She didn't even have to think about the answer to that question. Princesses were not permitted to go wandering off on their own, even when she went hunting she was surrounded by her court. It would be dangerous. Even better it would be _scandalous_. "Yes," she breathed fervently.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks very much for the reviews! Here's a short chapter to keep you going. **_

_**TheDancingSock (awesome name btw), I can never resist a bad girl so I was all set to love Adze's character but I was left feeling rather disappointed at her portrayal in the show. I thought the writers could and should have done more to explore her character rather than simply setting her up as the villainess to Erin's heroine. I am delighted to hear you're enjoying this fic and thank you for reviewing!**_

_**This probably isn't what you were expecting Vlad and Adze to get up to...**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 3**

The brightly coloured lights were blurring into one another, her head was light and dizzy as she whirled around faster and faster in what seemed like a never ending circle. When the motion halted suddenly, she found herself giggling like crazy and falling into Vlad's arms. His cold, firm body was the only solid thing in a world that was shifting and tilting at all sorts of odd angles. She wrapped her arms around his neck, moving shamelessly close, her tears of laughter probably ruining his shirt. This was so unladylike. If her father saw her now... The thought made her laugh harder.

Vlad's smug smile blatantly said 'I told you so.' Keeping one arm around her waist, he slowly walked her down the steps of the fairground ride. "Just wait until we go on the rollercoaster."

As soon as her legs felt steady again, Adze grinned up at him. "Let's go." She began tugging him in a particular direction even though she had no idea where this 'rollercoaster' was. Who knew that breather inventions could be so much fun?

Vlad manoeuvred her onto a bench. "We should have something to eat first." His smile was positively devilish.

Adze nodded her head in firm agreement before casting her eyes around the fairground for someone delicious. Vlad's disapproving tut brought her attention back to the vampire sitting beside her. "No Princess." Vlad was wearing a surprisingly stern expression. "No biting tonight."

She couldn't help pouting in response. With all the breathers milling around, it wasn't as if one would be missed. Much. Changing the Chosen One's views on dining out was going to be much more difficult than she had anticipated. Especially if he wouldn't even let her have so much as tiny nibble.

"Have this instead." Vlad held up what appeared to be a pink cloud on a plastic stick.

Adze gave him a singularly unimpressed look. "I am _not _eating that."She poked the offending object with a finger. "It's pink. And fluffy," she grimaced with disgust.

Vlad tore a piece of the strange material off the stick and dropped it into his mouth. "Mmm. Yummy." He rubbed his tummy with exaggerated pleasure.

She rolled her eyes with contempt. Trust her luck to get stuck with an immature teenager as a Blood Groom. If only her father hadn't insisted on breaking off her engagement to Vesteinn Barrack so that he could pair her up with the Chosen One. She had no desire to live in Iceland but at least Vesteinn was three hundred years old and had normal eating habits. Still, there was something oddly tempting about Vladimir Dracula and it wasn't just his power or position.

Vlad tore off another piece of the pink cloud and held it out to her. "Try it," he coaxed.

She gripped his wrist with her hand, holding it steady so that she could lean forward, covering his pale fingers with her lips, using her tongue to sensuously lick the pink fluffy material from his cold skin. His unnecessary intake of breath and the way his eyes turned black told her exactly how much he desired her. The foodstuff was light and airy, sweet, slightly scratchy against the surface of her mouth and then like magic it seemed to melt away. She forgot that she was trying to be seductive and found herself clapping her hands with delight. "It's just disappeared!" she squealed excitedly before tearing off another chunk to eat. When it melted again inside her mouth without a trace, she found herself giggling. Breathers had such fascinating food! Her joy faltered slightly as she looked up to find her fiancé watching her intently with a strange look on his face. She brushed at her mouth self-consciously in case any of the pink material had messed up her make-up. "What?" she demanded crossly feeling foolish for her childish behaviour a few seconds before.

A small smile curled at the corners of Vlad's mouth. "You're just...," he seemed to hesitate for a moment then shook his head and said it anyway, "sort of perfect." He bent his head and captured her mouth in a soft, sweet kiss which had nothing to do with the sugar coating their lips and tongues.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Wow, thank you all for such lovely reviews! As HopeCoppice knows, I was worried about writing this fic because Adze seemed to be such a hated figure in the fandom. It's fantastic to hear that people are reading and enjoying it.**_

_**Sorry, this is going to be slightly longer than anticipated, probably 8 to 10 relatively short chapters. I hope you enjoy!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 4**

They hung around the city long after the lights and music of the fairground had faded away. There were empty parks to explore, busy streets in which to mingle and weave between the party-goers. At first, Vlad had taken her arm in a formal manner, a manner befitting of her status as a vampire princess but somehow as the night wore on, their hands slipped into one another, cold fingers weaving together as if it was perfectly natural for them to behave like lovers.

"So, you see breathers have loads of cool inventions." She had to admit the Chosen One was certainly passionate about his cause; it was almost as if he genuinely believed that blood-bags were their equal. "Television, rugby – surprisingly vicious, toffee..."

Adze interrupted him. "But doesn't it drive you mad?" She gestured around at the large number of breathers just walking around in the street like they owned it, completely unaware of the dangerous predators in their midst. "Being surrounded by food all day in that wretched school and never allowing yourself to take a bite?" She cast a longing look in the direction of a particularly bulky passerby. Nine, no, easily ten pints of delicious, hot, blood was just sloshing around in that large body, just waiting to be devoured, oh but the thought almost had her salivating with hunger!

Vlad halted suddenly in the street and tugged her around to face him. "Breathers are not food." His voice was calm, his eyes still a clear blue, no trace of fangs to indicate that he was even annoyed at her comments, yet his words had been more of a command than an opinion.

Adze couldn't resist smiling coquettishly at him. The prospect of provoking Vlad's more authoritarian side sent a thrill racing through her body. "No need to be nervous," she teased him with a flirtatious flutter of her eyelashes, "Everyone gets first bite nerves."

Vlad raised his eyebrows. "You think I'm nervous about my First Bite?" There was more than a hint of scorn in his laughter.

He tightened his hand around hers and strode forward, the world blurred and twisted around them for a second before she realised, as the courtyard cobbles torn at the delicate satin of her heels, that they were back at Garside Grange. Blood and garlic - the Chosen One was _fast. _

"Show off." Adze carefully smoothed down her gown, acting as if she wasn't fazed in the slightest by his speed. After all, a princess shouldn't be too easily impressed. When she looked up again, Vlad's face had darkened, a fierce frown creasing his youthful features.

"Don't you think it's awful?" he demanded. "This whole bloodbinding thing? I mean, in any other circumstances, for a vampire to bite another on the neck is shameful. It's an act of dominance, of power. But because I'm your Blood Groom, it's suddenly acceptable for me to bite you there?" Vlad made a sound of disgust before kicking violently at a loose cobble. "It has nothing to do with love or commitment. Or even affection and loyalty. It just underlines the whole principle that as my wife you're nothing more than a possession. I can bite you because I own you! It's barbaric."

For a moment, his outburst stunned Adze into silence. She had heard of Ingrid Dracula's radical views on gender quality but to hear such words, such sentiments being uttered by a man, any man let alone the Chosen One, was deeply disturbing. It went against everything that she had been tutored in, that she had been taught to believe since she had been unborn. To think that such a vampire would soon hold the most powerful position of authority in their world... She wasn't sure whether it excited or repelled her. She forced herself to let out a tinkling laugh. "You really have let all those strange breather notions of love and equality cloud your view of marriage." She stepped closer to him, almost but not quite touching, knowing that her perfume would drift around him, tantalising him, drawing him closer. "It's nothing more than a contract. A set of mutual legal obligations." She leaned forward, her lips brushing against the delicate skin of his ear as she whispered, "Of course, if you are serious about equality, I could always bite you back."

She could sense rather than see the smirk forming on Vlad's lips. "That would be Grand High Treason." He seemed amused rather than threatened by her provocative behaviour. He didn't even flinch at the silky sound of her fangs gliding down into place as her mouth approached the vulnerable flesh of his throat. In fact, he stepped closer, his cold, hard body pressing against hers in a way that made her feel impossibly breathless, he bent his head, his own lips coming dangerously close to her skin whilst, at the same time, exposing his neck even further to her fangs. It was as if he was daring her, as if he had no fear. "Besides," his hands caught hers loosely, almost as if he would allow her to pull away with just the slightest of movements, "I could dust you before you even touched the surface."

The menace in his voice, his threat contrasting beautifully with the gossamer touch of his lips, the scraping of sharpened enamel against her skin; it really was more than a princess could possibly bear. Adze couldn't help the moan of pleasure that escaped her lips or the way she tilted her throat more invitingly toward his mouth...

Vlad stepped back abruptly, throwing her off balance, making her hands claw into the brickwork behind them so that she could keep upright. If she had been a breather, her cheeks would have been hot and flushed with blood, her heart pounding with anticipation, as it was, she was sure that her appearance was thoroughly dishevelled.

Vlad's gaze ran over her body, an appreciative smirk on his lips. "Goodnight Princess." He gave her a mocking bow before disappearing into the night sky.

Seething, Adze dug her nails even deeper into the brickwork, causing it to crumble beneath her fingers, a trail of red dust sweeping down onto the cobbles. The arrogance of that boy, of that Dracula brat, oh but he was infuriating! And he would be _hers_.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hope you are all still enjoying this! I'm aware that it's been rather fluffy so far but it starts to get darker from this point onwards.  
**_

_**Thanks for reading and reviewing : )  
**_

**_xo_  
**

**Chapter 5**

Ramanga and the Count had been pleasantly surprised by the Chosen One's response to the proposed marriage. At the start, Vladdy had been strident, almost militant in his opposition to the arrangement. Now, however, after meeting the beautiful Princess Adze, Vladdy was proving to be considerably more agreeable to the entire concept. Oh, the Count wasn't naive enough to think that the fight was over, Vlad had made his feelings all too clear but it would seem that he shared his father's weakness for a lovely face and a graceful body. Indeed, it could be said that Vladimir was being most attentive to Adze. It was as if he was determined to personally meet her every need. Well, almost every need, he was still refusing to give in over the tiny detail of biting breathers but progress was certainly being made. After all, hadn't the boy already stolen a couple of bottles from the blood cellar? Normally, the Count would be outraged at such flagrant disregard for his property but in this instance he was turning a blind eye. If he had to sacrifice a few priceless vintages in order to get his precious son and heir to start eating properly then so be it. Ramanga was confident that Adze was a bad influence on Vladdy and therefore the clan leader was encouraging him to leave the young couple to their own devices. Or should that be vices?

"Something amusing?"

The Count glared up at Bertrand, all of the vampires to witness him sniggering at his own wit, it would have to be the arrogant tutor. He couldn't help but resent the growing closeness between the French vampire and Vladimir. His son hardly ever confided in him anymore, oh no, he would rather take advice off this treacherous worm. The boy barely had any time or respect for his father these days. "What do you want?" He made sure that contempt oozed out of every single word.

The tutor hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I came to speak to you about Vlad."

The Count raised a single sarcastic eyebrow. "Well, this had better be good."

* * *

Adze's silver tipped nails trailed down the ivory satin which lined her coffin. The material felt cool and smooth beneath her hands but it wasn't exactly what she wanted to be feeling right now. She wanted cold, hard flesh pressed against her body; Vlad's specifically. Just the thought of his long, elegant fingers trailing across her skin made her squirm with anticipation. She had never experienced this type of problem before. She had never been denied anything or anyone that she truly wanted. Adze didn't need to see her reflection to know that she was stunning. She had the power to turn centuries old vampires into bumbling idiots with just a flutter of her exquisitely long eyelashes or with just the slightest pout of her full lips. Her lovers had praised her flawless skin, dark eyes and perfect figure, all slimness and curves. Adze knew she was a highly desirable commodity, she could see the lust in the Chosen One's eyes, she could feel his body responding to her caresses and yet he still said no to her.

No.

It wasn't a word that Adze was used to hearing especially not from a potential lover. A part of her had expected the Dracula brat to be grateful. He was a seventeen year old fangling for Lucifer's sake! He should have so overwhelmed with hormones that he ripped her cape off at the first sign that she might be willing to accommodate his physical needs. Then again, Vlad hadn't been like anything she had expected. His touch was always so carefully chaste no matter how passionate their kisses became. He always turned down the invitation to enter her coffin room stating that propriety would not allow it. And the more he denied her, the more she wanted him until it made her feverish with sexual frustration and thwarted ambition.

There was something about Vladimir Dracula, something strangely innocent, almost pure, about him and she knew it was perverse but somehow she found it immensely attractive. She wanted to be the one that corrupted him, she wanted to destroy that light within him, bring him down into the darkness with her.

And if she succeeded... her hand ran down the smooth, unmarked skin of her throat, she would have power. The Chosen One's First Bite... it would grant her power almost equal to his. The thought of it was exhilarating, almost terrifying; she could finally break free of the shackles and restraints imposed on her by her father and vampire society. Her father had told her to put up with anything that the Chosen One threw at her, no matter how badly her fiancé behaved, she was to smile sweetly and tolerate it. He had reassured her that she could take all the revenge she wanted after that First Bite at the Blood Binding. Except, why wait? If she could just get the Chosen One into her coffin, why in the throes of passion it would be easy to make him lose control, for her to run her fingers through his dark hair and urge him to kiss her neck harder, for his fangs to descend and for her to press her flesh so temptingly against them...

Then, she would have all the power a vampiress could ever dream of.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thanks very much for the reviews on the last chapter. Great to know that people are still interesting in reading this. A couple of racy scenes coming up- I'm not sure whether to up the rating to a 'M' or not. Just forewarning you!**_

_**Hope you enjoy! **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 6**

"I need you to distract Adze."

Vlad sighed heavily and set down his pen. One of the things he liked most about Bertrand was his directness. The tutor wasted no time telling him exactly what it was he needed to do. Even if he did become more reticent when questioned about the reasoning behind his requests. "Why?" He looked up at the older vampire who was already leaning over the desk, scrutinising Vlad's work with a critical eye.

Bertrand glanced up from Vlad's handwritten notes. "I need to search the Ramangas' quarters," he stated matter-of-factly.

Vlad raised his eyebrows but didn't question Bertrand further on the matter. There wasn't much point in pushing Bertrand for more information, not when he was wearing that impenetrable look that said very plainly to keep your fangs out of his business. Besides, it wasn't as if Vlad had anyone else fighting his side. His Dad seemed determined to coerce him into this stupid marriage just to prove that he still had the power to control his son. Ingrid, well he couldn't be quite sure what was going on in his sister's mind but she seemed more interested in building up her own position in vampire society than the domestic situation between her father and brother. Bertrand was all Vlad had; especially now Erin was gone.

Vlad stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a screeching sound that made his tutor wince. "How long do you need?"

* * *

The Count strode determinedly along the corridor until he reached his son's coffin room. Flinging the door open, he never did understand why Vladimir would want to hide anything from him, they were father and son after all, he surveyed his son's room with distaste. Where were the cobwebs? The instruments of torture? Although, he eyed a strange looking board with wheels attached to its underside, he supposed that contraption had potential for evil.

Vladimir was already fastening his cape; he looked as if he were ready to go out. Excellent. This was the perfect opportunity for some father-son bonding. Now, that Vladdy has tasted some of his finest vintages perhaps he would prove more amendable to the idea of hunting breathers.

"Dad?" Vladimir gave him an inquiring, if slightly impatient look.

The Count leant casually against the doorframe. "I thought you might like to join me for a midnight flight?"

Vlad glanced pointedly at his wristwatch. "It's seven o clock," he replied coolly.

The Count rolled his eyes. "It's a figure of speech Vladimir." Why were teenage fanglings so pedantic this century? When he had been seventeen he wouldn't have dared speak to his father in such an insolent fashion. Still, he supposed it wasn't exactly the fifteenth century anymore. Pity that.

"Can't." Vlad moved towards the doorway but the Count remained exactly where he was, effectively blocking the boy's exit. "I'm meeting Adze for a date."

The Count made a sound of disgust. Trust Vladdy to bring breather notions of romance into this arrangement. "You've been with Adze every night this week," he pointed out in an irritable tone.

Vlad shrugged. "You're the one who told me I needed to take things more seriously and start acting like a grown up." He was wearing a defensive look, it was one that the Count recognised all too well, it was the same look he wore when he decided that no matter he was going to attend his cookery classes. As if his son and heir would ever need to cook anything! If only Vladdy would sink his fangs into one of the other cookery students. That would teach him everything he needed to know about feeding himself. The Count wouldn't even mind explaining matters to the delightful Miss McCauley...

Dragging his thoughts away from the head teacher and the extraordinarily becoming way in which she smiled at him required effort. By the time, the Count achieved this task, Vladimir was already pushing past him in that half-arsed manner that only a sulky fangling could achieve. "You know Vladdy, I'm beginning to suspect that you would rather spend time with that spoilt princess than your own father!" The Count put on a great display of being disinterested and examining his nails.

His son sighed dramatically. "She is going to be my fiancée. When I'm married my priorities are going to have to change." He gave his father a condescending slap on the back. "Don't get me wrong Dad, I mean I would have loved to do the whole hell-raising thing for four centuries like you but," Vlad gave him a defeated shrug before trying to push past once again.

The Count, frozen by his son's words, let the boy go past without a struggle. Inside his mind, cogs were beginning to whirl around at an alarming speed. _'My daughter will have him biting in no time.'_ '_Remember what he was like with the last one?' 'My priorities are going to have to change.' 'I never took you for the self-sacrificing type.' _The Count snarled into his son's empty room. Vladimir was his son and nobody, especially not some dragged up, snotbag of a vampiress, was going to take him away. No, the Count decided then and there, that this whole marriage nonsense had gone on for long enough. He had proven his point to Vladimir, he had asserted his authority as Regent, the boy had been taught a valuable lesson about who was really in control but it was done now. There was no way in hell he was going to risk losing his Vladdy.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Apologies to DiF readers, I'm afraid it's been a rather busy week so I won't be posting this weekend. However, I am going to try and finish off Autonomy in the next week so I hope you will enjoy this instead!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 7  
**

Adze's hands wandered over his chest, the coldness of her touch radiating through the thin material of Vlad's T-shirt, her fingers slowly sweeping downwards towards the buckle of his belt. As her tongue swept over his, Vlad briefly wondered how long he was going to have to do this. Each night, it was becoming more and more difficult to resist Adze. It wasn't made any easier by the fact that it had been weeks since he had gotten laid. Since he was supposed to be completely enthralled by his new fiancée, Vlad wasn't going to risk sneaking out to meet one of his lovers. Besides, his tastes had changed in the past fortnight. Right now, the only woman he wanted in his coffin was Adze. Vlad was shrewd enough to recognise that most of his lust was simply down to the fact that Adze was forbidden fruit. Knowing this still didn't stop him fantasising about the vampiress or wishing that he could simply give into her advances.

It was surprising actually how saying no somehow made you more desirable. It still didn't make sense to Vlad. He had taken the book from Bertrand with a questioning smirk; after all he hadn't expected books, offering advice on sex and psychology, to be on his tutor's reading list. He had dutifully read it, the fact that it left him feeling a little on the nauseous side, didn't surprise him. What else could he expect from a book recommended by his devious tutor? It worked though, that puzzled Vlad more than anything else. Every time that he rejected Adze, every time that he presented her with a backhanded compliment, it only seemed to make her more determined to have him. It bothered Vlad, probably more than it ought to, but it felt like he was playing mind games. Worst of all, he suspected that the only reason he was winning was because Adze was emotionally damaged by the misogynistic treatment she received all her unlife from Ramanga.

"Vlad?" Adze's voice was a soft purr in his ear as her hands glided under his T-shirt. "You seem ... distracted?" Her long nails scraped against the hard muscles in his back, no doubt leaving temporary marks on his pale skin. Vlad had a feeling that Adze was the sort who liked to leave physical evidence of her possession. He also couldn't help thinking about how easy it would be to make her dig those talons in deeper, to make her writhe beneath his body, begging him for more. Esmeralda had been quite the instructor and he had been a very enthusiastic student.

He stepped back, ignoring the way Adze's hands tightened on his back, her half-snarl of frustration. "We'll miss the film." He kept his voice cool and disdainful, even if the lower part of his body was acting in a contradictory manner.

Adze barely managed to bite back her hiss of annoyance.

* * *

Bertrand ran his fingers lightly across the gleaming stones, one black, one green, both encased in rings of gold. How like Ramanga to leave such incriminating evidence in his quarters. It was testament to the clan leader's arrogance; he clearly believed that he had successfully hoodwinked the Draculas, that he could make the Chosen One nothing more than a puppet. There were some forms of dark magic forbidden even amongst vampires because of the damage they could do. Although...who knew if the rings would even work on Vlad? The Dracula fledging was hardly a normal vampire.

Bertrand wasn't willing to put it to the test. It appeared that the Chosen One was in danger. Again. But then Vlad would always be in danger. His unlife was always going to be difficult, it would be one full of assassination attempts by slayers and vampires alike, his authority would be challenged by those closest to him, his secrets sold to the highest bidder, his heart and body coveted for the power that he could bestow. Becoming the leader of vampirekind was easy; it took nothing more than a single drop of blood to form your name on the scroll. Keeping the throne, now that was the difficult part.

Of course, Vladimir Dracula's name had never come up on that scroll, he had been appointed by a higher authority. The vampires who had waited so long for their precious Chosen One, the supposed saviour of their kind, seemed intent on destroying him when presented with the reality. True, the Dracula boy was hardly the ideal vampire, his refusal to drink real blood was proving to be slightly more serious than a teenage fad but nonetheless Bertrand was proud of his protégé. He, more so than anyone else, knew what the future Grand High Vampire was capable of, he had caught glimpses of the terrible darkness in Vlad, terrifying but exhilarating glimpses of just how evil and powerful Vlad could be. With the right guidance of course. Vlad was so close to the edge, always so close to succumbing to the darkness inside...

The sound of laughter, from the courtyard, distracted Bertrand from his thoughts. Within seconds, he was at the window staring down at the young would-be couple. The exquisitely beautiful Princess Adze was giggling as she clutched Vlad's arm. That didn't worry Bertrand, no, what concerned him was the look on Vlad's face as the younger vampire swept Adze into his arms. He hadn't seen Vlad laugh and smile like that for months, not since Erin, longer in fact, not since Bertrand had slowly poisoned his heart and mind against the slayer he had professed to love so much.

He observed the spark of light in Vlad's eyes as Adze pressed her lips against his jaw in a teasing kiss. Hmm. It was becoming all too evident that this little game of courtship had gone on long enough. Especially now, that he had all the evidence he needed to bring about the demise of the Ramanga clan. With a hiss of displeasure, he turned away from the window and found Ingrid standing in the doorway.

Her eyes, almost purple in the candlelight, were narrowed with suspicion. "I believe we have to renegotiate." Her lips curled up into a cold, self-satisfied smirk and somehow Bertrand had the feeling he was going to enjoy this immensely.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thank you for the lovely reviews! I hope that you're enjoying the build up, I'm hoping it's all going to come together in the final chapters!  
**_

_**Some raciness and swearing in this - you've been warned!  
**_

**_xo_  
**

**Chapter 8**

Hurt flashed through Adze's eyes as Vlad disentangled their fingers. "I'm beginning to think you don't want me," she murmured softly, stepping back from him. She bowed her head, causing dark locks of hair to tumble over her shoulders, partially covering her face. Even so Vlad could still make out the downcast look on her beautiful features.

Despite everything that Bertrand had taught him, Vlad couldn't help feeling guilty. It made him intensely uncomfortable to know that his constant rejections were undermining Adze's confidence. It was only a few weeks ago that he had been in a similar situation with Erin, desperately wanting to get close, to be held, to be loved, at least in some form and knowing that every time you tried, you would be hurt but still doing it anyway because you were just so desperate... He shook his head resolutely as his thoughts began to go round in circles. He never wanted to feel that way again let alone put someone else through it.

He took a step forward and reached out a pale hand to stroke her cheek. Her skin was so smooth and cold beneath his fingers, it made him ache for her all the more. He wanted to know if it was just as soft and perfect everywhere else on that sinfully perfect body. "You know that's not true," he said gently. "I do want you."

Adze looked up at him, her dark eyes full of pain and sadness. "If only you would prove it." Seemingly with great effort, she pulled herself away from his touch and stepped into her coffin room closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

* * *

As Bertrand laid her down in his coffin, Ingrid couldn't help but notice just how carefully he handled her. As if her body was made of glass and the slightest knock would shatter her into pieces. For someone who was supposed to be her enemy, he could be surprisingly gentle. Perhaps, it was a sign of the era in which he had been unborn, for all his ruthlessness and cunning, Bertrand still had some odd notions about chivalry. Ingrid wasn't used to tenderness, she would like to think that she had very little time for it but as Bertrand slowly set her down against the golden silk which lined his coffin, she had to admit it was a delicious contrast to how he had been touching her just a few minutes ago.

Languidly, she stretched out against the silk, not caring that her hair was tousled or that her lip gloss had probably rubbed off by now. She looked exactly how she wanted to look, well and truly fucked. As Bertrand glanced back at her, his mouth tightened just by the tiniest fraction, it would have escaped her attention a few months ago but now she knew better. That tiny flicker of movement indicated he was fighting the urge to drag her out of the narrow confines of his coffin, push her up against the wall and show her again just how formidable an opponent he found her.

Opponent was precisely the word for what took place between them. They didn't whisper endearments into each other's ears, they weren't gentle, there was no love lost between them. Sex was a battlefield, they both played to win and neither of them was above dirty tactics. A smirk slowly crept across Ingrid's swollen lips as she recalled just how gratifying it was to make someone as cold and as composed as Bertrand fall apart beneath her touch, to make him cry out her name with just a flick of her tongue. No doubt, he would be plotting revenge against her for that particular trick. Hmm, she was rather looking forward to it.

She watched as Bertrand hastily began pulling on his clothes, the muscles of his back rippling in the candlelight as he reached out to grab his shirt from where she tossed it earlier. She had to fight the urge to reach out for him, to pull that hard, strong body against hers once again, run her hands over his golden skin...

There would be no point in making such advances. Only one person could call Bertrand to their side and know that they would never be rejected, that they would always come first for the four hundred year old vampire. "Make sure that my little brother knows that he owes me." She kept her voice brisk and impersonal as if they were nothing more than acquaintances in a Council meeting rather than two lovers who had just smashed some precious artefacts in their haste to remove each other's clothing.

Bertrand looked back at her, a slight smirk forming on his wide mouth as he tucked his shirt into his trousers. "I'll make sure you are rewarded for your part." He reached up to lift a glass bottle, intricately carved and in the shape of a teardrop, from its position of safety on a high shelf.

A dark frown flitted across his features as he gazed down at Ramanga's 'gift' and suddenly Ingrid was reminded of the vampire who would have dusted her just to sway her brother's opinion on slayers. Of the fact that no-one knew exactly what horrors Bertrand had committed, and whether he done so willingly, in his centuries old quest for his beloved Chosen One. He was her rival, her enemy and she must never allow herself to underestimate both his ambition and capabilities.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thank you so much for the positive reviews on Bertrand and Ingrid in the last chapter! : ) This is a bit longer than my usual chapters for Autonomy but I didn't want to disrupt the flow. I've had this scene planned out in my head for months, it's partially what prompted me to write this fic so I really hope that it works!  
**_

_**Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 9**

Vlad was waiting for him in the training room. He was leaning against the oak table, his hands clenched tightly around the edges as he stared down at the floor. His head snapped up as soon as Bertrand entered the room. "Did you get what we need?" His words could have sounded abrupt, urgent even if not for the tiredness in his voice.

Bertrand took a moment to carefully consider the boy before him. For all of his extraordinary powers, that was exactly what the Chosen One was. A boy. A teenager who in a few weeks would have the Crown of Power placed on his head, who would hold the future of the world in his hand. The flickering light of the candles only served to attenuate the hollows and shadows of Vlad's face as the boy looked up at him. His eyes, such beautiful shades of sapphire and emerald, were huge in his thin face. There were moments when Vladimir Dracula appeared fragile, almost breakable. Bertrand quickly stemmed that particular flow of thought, it simply wouldn't do to get soft with his protégé. He was brutally hard on Vlad for a very good reason; it was his duty to ensure that the Chosen One was capable of leading vampirekind into an era of blood and glory. It would be difficult for Bertrand to achieve this goal if the boy was nothing more than a pile of dust.

Bertrand acted as if the younger vampire hadn't spoken yet. "I saw you in the courtyard with Adze." He kept his voice soft, his tone casual and disinterested but he knew from the way Vlad lifted his chin, oh so haughtily, that his protégé had picked up on the dark undercurrent of his tutor's mood.

"She's my fiancée." He shot Bertrand a dark look from beneath his eyelashes. "Unless, you've found something and we can finally end this stupid game."

Bertrand gave Vlad a cool, appraising look. "And if I have?" He slipped his hand into the side pocket of his red greatcoat, a twinge of relief breaking through his bad temper as his fingers touched the smooth metal of the jewellery case.

Vlad shrugged. "Then, I'm free," he replied impatiently.

Bertrand's fingers wrapped around the box as he strode purposefully towards his master. "What about Princess Adze?" He noted that Vlad's shoulders tensed slightly at the sound of his fiancée's name. "Your performance as the doting husband-to-be is very convincing."

Vlad's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say Bertrand?" His eyes were too bright, his hands were gripping the edges of the table even tighter as if he was trying to hold his temper back.

Bertrand paused for a few seconds, carefully arranging his features into an expression of hesitancy. "What if she is involved?" He tried to sound tactful, as if he was merely concerned for the Chosen One's welfare.

A look of confusion flitted through the eyes of his protégé as Vlad considered his words. "No," he said slowly, "Adze is ...," his voice trailed off for a moment as if he were trying to remember something. "No, she wouldn't. She's as trapped as I am."

A sigh of exasperation escaped Bertrand's lips. Why did Vlad persist in this terrible habit of believing in people? Especially, people who were clearly plotting to assassinate him. First, the slayer-girl with her constant lies and treachery, now this vampiress who had bewitched him with her beautiful face. When would the stupid boy learn from his mistakes? Had destroying the slayer-girl not been enough? Was there a part of Vlad's heart still capable of that pathetic sentiment breathers called 'love'?

Vlad was folding his arms defensively across his chest; a look of irritation beginning to settle on his handsome face. "You don't know her," he childishly pointed out. "She's not all that bad."

Bertrand grimaced, not bothering to hide his disgust at Vlad's words. "You have feelings for her." He didn't care that his voice was full of hostility, he didn't care that he was invading the Chosen One's space as he stepped closer to the boy, that he was on verge of losing his temper with the obstinate teenager.

Vlad was clearly off guard by this accusation. He half opened his mouth as if to deny it but the words didn't come quickly enough for his tutor's liking. "That's not what I meant." He shifted awkwardly under Bertrand's scrutiny, casting his gaze down onto the dusty floor. If it had been physically possible, his cheeks would have been flushed with embarrassment.

A slow-burning rage began to steadily rise inside Bertrand. He had vowed to crush this weakness, this tendency towards emotional attachments, out of the Chosen One's character and there was nothing he disliked more than failure. "Once again, you are a fool," he sneered nastily before tossing the jewellery box onto the table, its lid falling open to reveal the two rings nestling against the black velvet.

The Chosen One half-snapped at him, his fangs gleaming in the dim light, before he managed to gain control. Bertrand couldn't help feeling a stab of pride, both at the threat and the way his protégé held his emotions in check. Vlad's suspicious gaze flickered over the rings and then back to his tutor's face. "What are these?" he demanded.

Bertrand smiled grimly. "The Rings of Arianrhod. Magic so dark, it's forbidden even amongst our kind." He pushed the rings towards Vlad, studying every flicker of emotion, every gesture, every unnecessary breath that the boy took. "Whoever wears the mother's ring," he tapped the smaller, green jewelled ring, "controls the wearer of the son's ring," his fingers moved across to the larger ring which bore an ugly black stone. "An ancient curse which is activated by a tear from the victim's bloodline." With his other hand, Bertrand reached back into his pocket and withdrew the glass bottle that Ingrid had given him earlier that evening. He set it down on the table without taking his eyes off Vlad. "How convenient that Ramanga should gift such an item to your sister."

It only took Vlad a few seconds to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "The Blood Binding." He shook his head in horrified disbelief. "Is that how desperate Ramanga is for power? That he would resort to Grand High Treason?"

Bertrand laughed disdainfully. "It's not just Ramanga. Don't you see Vlad? This is what awaits you," he gestured towards the items of dark magic sitting so innocently on the table, "This is what I've been warning you about, why I've been training you to protect yourself. You will be _everything_, you will hold all the power in the vampire world and the worlds beyond it. It's your destiny to rule us all, vampire or not. Such power is deadly, they will all try to take it from you, not just the breathers and slayers but the vampires, the werewolves, the zombies, all of them. They don't know whether to run from you or fall to their knees and worship you. You can trust nobody, especially those who would seek your heart. This," Bertrand picked up the box and forced into Vlad's hand, curling the boy's fingers around the metal casing, "is what will happen to you every time you let someone get close. They will seek to control you, to steal your power for their own, they would make you into their puppet. Literally, in Adze's case."

Vlad tried to push the box back into Bertrand's hands. He shook his head frantically. "No!" His eyes were darkening with pain, "No, she..."

The box tumbled to the floor as Bertrand reached up to grasp Vlad's chin firmly, to force the boy to look at him directly. "She was going to strip you of your autonomy, force you to become a pet, something for her to play with before she or her father eventually stuck a stake in your heart." To Bertrand's horror, the Chosen One's eyes were filling up with tears. It only served to convince Bertrand more than ever that he had to push the Dracula boy over the edge, plunge him into the darkness, not just because it was the right and natural order of things but more importantly it was necessary for Vlad's survival. He loosened his grip on Vlad, he was aware that any other vampire would have been whimpering with pain by now, the Chosen One seemed merely dazed, almost distracted, his gaze slipping back to the rings. "You can never be with someone."

Vlad looked up at him sharply, a hint of something close to fear entering his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Bertrand looked meaningfully at the rings. "You can never take that chance. You will never truly know whether it's you or your power that they want." He let his hand fall down onto Vlad's shoulder, giving the boy's flesh a squeeze of false sympathy. "You are better off alone. Look back at your History coursework, the Tudors, Henry and Mary lost their way, they were weak, they succumbed to their emotional impulses and it tore their kingdoms apart. There was only one Tudor monarch who succeeded, who led a glorious reign, who was worshipped and exalted as you shall be; Elizabeth."

Vlad chuckled weakly. "The Grand High Virgin." His voice was low and bitter. Bertrand could almost sense the darkness building up inside his protégé, the power beginning to emanate from Vlad's body as he struggled against the allure of his evil reflections.

"Not quite," Bertrand sought to reassure him. "You can still have your pleasure," He gave Vlad a stern look of warning, "With the necessary precautions of course. We don't want any little bastards turning up to lay claim to your throne."

It was a sign of how upset Vlad was that the boy simply nodded. Slowly, as if he was exhausted, Vlad bent down to retrieve the rings from where they had scattered across the floor. Closing the jewellery box with a loud snap, he looked at Bertrand who found it immensely gratifying to see the fury in those sapphire depths. "Mind if I hold onto these?" Without waiting for Bertrand's protest, they were evidence after all, Vlad took flight.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Thanks very much for the reviews on the last chapter- great to hear that you're still enjoying this fic. I'm afraid it's going to overrun my estimate of 10 chapters – opps! It should all get wrapped up in the few two or three chapters though. **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 10**

The crimson stain on the horizon indicated that dawn was approaching. Standing on the balcony, staring out at the bloodied clouds, Vlad struggled not to launch himself off the roof-top and fly out into the lightening sky. He wanted to escape Garside Grange, to fly high into the cold air and towards the North Sea where an abandoned oil rig would provide him with all the space and time he needed to think clearly about his current situation. It was too late for that, he was trapped in the school building for another seven or eight hours until darkness fell again.

Taking another deep breath of the frost laden air, Vlad tried to collect his thoughts, tried to make sense of the emotions whirling around inside him, tried not to think of how close he could have come to losing himself to the Ramangas. Was it really that surprising that his fiancée was plotting to strip him of his free will and then murder him? He should have expected it, after all his last girlfriend had repeatedly plotted to kill him and if his parents were anything to go by then mutual hatred and assassination attempts were all part and parcel of a vampire relationship. If anything, Adze's betrayal should probably be hurting him more than it currently did. Instead of rage or pain, what he actually felt was emptiness. He felt completely hollow, as if his capacity to feel had been removed.

Bertrand was right; he was once more the fool. A fool for believing that anyone, let alone a villainous beauty like Adze, could ever love him for who he was. He had been so desperate to believe that Adze was different, that she had genuinely been interested in him, plain, ordinary, slightly awkward Vlad rather than his title and status as the Chosen One. He had been drawn in by her laughter, her delight at candy-floss, the way she had seemed so physically attracted to him. His body stirred at the memory of Adze's cool tongue slipping past his lips, the sensation of her nails raking down his back. It disgusted him that he still wanted to be intimate with her given his new found knowledge. Perhaps, he was more like his Dad than he cared to admit – why else would he be interested in putting himself into a vulnerable position with someone who clearly didn't care for him very much?

With a snarl of frustration, Vlad turned away from the rising sun. Stepping back into the soothing darkness of the attic, he slammed the door behind him. He hated the ridiculous restrictions placed on him by the earth's orbit around a burning ball of gas millions upon millions of miles away. All of it was such nonsense! The garlic, the stakes, the silver, the sunlight, who in hell made up these stupid rules anyway?

He felt restless, too many thoughts rushing through his mind, too much energy flowing around his body causing his muscles to tense and coil as if readying himself for an attack, causing his fangs to ache with a longing that went beyond hunger. He felt as if he could fly or fight for hours. If he couldn't escape to the North Sea then he needed some form of release, some safe way to work out his frustration. He could return to the training room, Bertrand would quite happily take him for extra sparring lessons. Regardless of the time, day or night, his tutor could be trusted to set aside what other duties he had in order to satisfy Vlad's whims. But, after their earlier confrontation, Vlad didn't particularly want to seek Bertrand's help. He couldn't face the knowing smirk that his tutor would inevitably give him.

That left him with his second option. Sex. Unfortunately, given the situation with the sunlight, none of his vampire lovers were currently available. He supposed that he could go down into the school and pull Annabel Rogers out of whatever class she happened to be in but it was always a risk with her. He was always worried that she would notice his unnatural coldness or that the femoral artery would prove too much of a temptation for him; he was always so bloody snackish these days. No, there was only one woman that he wanted to screw right now, the one that he had been resisting for the past few weeks, the one that had been lying to him and plotting his death even as she kissed him passionately and tore at his clothing.

The thought made bile rise up his throat and yet he found himself striding towards his room, changing his shirt, dabbing aftershave onto his freshly shaven face. He rummaged around on his bookcase, locating a bottle of blood, carelessly concealed by a pile of Maths textbooks. Staring down at the bottle, the dark blood flowing beneath the green glass, Vlad couldn't help thinking that it was the perfect symbol of his relationship with Adze. It was all completely fake, something unpalatable in a clever disguise. Vlad ran his thumb slowly over the yellowing label, his Dad would be furious when he found out his last bottle of Marquis de Valmont 1789 was missing but somehow he would find it in his cold, dead heart to forgive his precious son. If only Dad knew the truth, hellfire if only Adze knew the truth! Perhaps he should tell her. Reveal that all the precious vintages that she had been drinking were actually soy blood. Every last drop of the red stuff had been manufactured by Renfield's not so fair hand. The Draculas' servant had made some truly astounding advances in soy blood production. It had suited Vlad perfectly to pretend to his father and the Ramangas that Adze had, indeed, succeeded in making him drink real blood, at least in secret. The Count had behaved exactly as expected, at first he had been proud and triumphant of his son's 'success' but now he was becoming increasingly paranoid about Adze's influence. As for Bertrand, well Vlad hadn't asked his tutor what he had done with the real vintages but he could make a pretty good guess.

He didn't even bother to tuck the bottle underneath his leather jacket as he marched along the twisting corridors to Adze's coffin room on the other side of the building. He was through with pretending, through with playing games – fairly or not. Whatever the sick and twisted reasoning behind it, he really did desire Adze and he was damn well going to have her.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thanks very much for the reviews, I hope you won't find the last few chapters disappointing! Just a warning, this chapter is very dark and contains implicit sexual content. **_

_**For HopeCoppice, whose ability to write racy scenes always makes me deeply envious. This can't even begin to compare but I hope it's a start! ; )**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 11**

"Come in." Adze's voice was low and honeyed with just a trace of arrogance lurking beneath the surface. No doubt, she had perfected that husky tone just in case suitors like him came knocking at her coffin lid.

Opening the door, Vlad made no effort to step inside the room. Instead, he lounged casually against the doorframe, the bottle of 'vintage' blood dangling from his hand. His gaze roved hungrily over the vampiress who he had said good morning to just a few hours ago. It was remarkable how much had managed to change in that short period of time.

Oh but Lucifer, Adze was gorgeous. Sitting up in her coffin, a gown of shimmering grey encasing her curves, dark hair loose and tumbling over her almost bare shoulders, she really was delectable. His body was making it absolutely clear that it had no qualms whatsoever about screwing someone who had tried to destroy him. Not when they looked this good.

Adze's dark eyes widened at the sight of him, a few hours ago, he would have said she seemed almost appreciative in her scrutiny of his appearance. "Your Highness?" Her voice was practically a purr.

Slowly, gracefully, she eased herself out of her coffin, the silver gown hitching up slightly to give him a tantalising glimpse of her long, slim legs. It was lighter, more accessible than the gowns she usually wore. For once, she wasn't wearing a corset and the unrestricted flow of the material showed off a figure which needed no bones and binding to achieve perfection. Vlad found himself calculating just how long it would take him to unfasten those hooks, to run up his hands up over her thighs and find out if she favoured tights or stockings, to nip sharply at the tempting curve of her shoulder before easing the silky material off the rest of her body. He didn't care that his eyes were darkening with lust or that his fangs were descending in anticipation. Let her see how much he wanted her, it would hurt her all the more later.

He held up the bottle, watching as her luscious mouth curled upwards in a smile, "Still want me to prove it?" His voice was deeper than usual, the metallic undertones hinting at the raw power lurking inside him. The power that she was so desperate to get her hands on.

Reaching him, Adze laid a possessive hand on his chest. She tilted her head up to gaze deeply into his eyes. Without taking her eyes off his, she trailed her hand slowly down his upper body, pressing her palm hard into his muscles before slipping her fingers beneath his shirt, around the buckle of his belt, just brushing the cold skin beneath. A provocative gesture intended to make Vlad's body respond exactly in the manner it was currently doing. Adze leant forward, her eyes almost black with wanting, sharply, verging on violent, she tugged on Vlad's belt, pulling him firmly into her room and against her body, slamming the door firmly shut behind him. "_Yes_."

* * *

Settling back against the cushions, which Vlad had so considerately thrown onto the floor, Adze noticed that the candles had burnt down so low that their flames were on the verge of being extinguished by the surrounding pools of wax. It was growing dark outside, they must have spent hours in this state of intimacy without either of them realising it. Her gaze was inevitably drawn back to the young vampire lying beside her on the blanket. Vlad was tracing a pattern against the smooth, firm skin of her stomach with his tongue. Watching him was surprisingly erotic. It was the way he devoted his attention completely to her, not bothering to brush away the black hair that fell over his forehead and into his eyes, the crimson of his tongue as it swept over her skin in lazy strokes, the intensity of those sapphire eyes as he looked up at her, his lips quirking upwards in a smug smirk.

Reaching down, Adze entangled her fingers in his messy hair, it felt like strands of raw silk. It was difficult to resist the urge to tug hard on it, to force his head up, to hurt him just a little bit, to give him just a taste of how aggrieved she was. Sex with the Chosen One hadn't been quite what she had been expecting. Mmm, yes, sex with the Chosen One. Just thinking that sentence made her want to cackle with glee. Yet, a part of her felt robbed, felt disappointed. Vlad had been a perfectly competent lover... No, that was unfair. Vlad had been a very good lover, he had known exactly what he was doing, there had been no awkward fumbling, no nervous pauses, no clumsy caresses, no embarrassing lapses of control. In fact, all he had needed was just the barest amount of guidance as to what exactly _she _preferred. And that was entirely the problem.

With his angelic face and sweet smile, Adze had anticipated that the Dracula brat would still be a virgin. She had been rather looking forward to being the one who deflowered him, the vampiress who corrupted him and initiated him into the dark pleasures of sex but someone else, some strumpet, some whore, had gotten there before her. Jealousy surged through her, making her fangs glide down into place, making her fingers tighten a fraction too much around the strands of Vlad's hair. He was meant to be her husband and the thought of someone else teaching him what he had so ably demonstrated to her in the past few hours made her feel almost sick with anger. The Chosen One was meant to be hers.

Vlad seemed to be ignoring her vicious grip, instead of wincing or pulling away, he lowered his head to dip his tongue in and out of her navel, an intimate caress which made Adze burn with longing for him again. She supposed that she should be grateful to whoever had come before her; at least they had taught her fiancé some very pleasurable techniques. There was still the matter of his First Bite, that truly would be hers, she would be his first in the way that mattered most to a vampire.

Vlad paused suddenly in his administrations, his smirk fading away as he looked up at her. "I could stop all of this," he whispered softly, "I could simply refuse to go through with the Blood Binding. I have that privilege, you don't. I could stop you from being forced into something you don't want. I'll take all of the blame, all of the responsibility, I'll make sure you are in no way compromised or dishonoured and I promise that I'll do my best to make sure that no-one is put in your position again." His voice, although low, rang with sincerity, his handsome features serious and concerned as he gazed at her.

An unfamiliar sensation of warmth flooded Adze's chest, emotion making her unbeating heart ache in a rather strange manner. Vlad's offer had caught her off-guard, it made her feel odd and breathless in a way that was entirely different to the physical effects of sex. He was offering to set her free, to sacrifice himself so that she could have some small measure of autonomy and he wasn't just telling her this, he wasn't just imposing this change of plan on her, he was actually asking for her opinion, asking her what _she_ wanted. When had anyone ever done that before?

Conflicting thoughts and emotions rushed through her, as she stared down at the younger vampire. On the one fang, she wanted to grab Vlad's offer with both hands, she wanted to experience freedom but ah she also wanted power! She wanted Vlad, not just like this, not just as a lover or a husband. To possess the Chosen One, to hold his unlife in her hands, to control his every movement, that would truly be the dizzying heights of power. It was within her grasp, it was so tantalisingly close, she could show her father, show her family, show everyone what she was capable of. And until then, well, his fangs had brushed against the vulnerable flesh of her throat earlier, if she could push him that little bit further, make him lose control...

She forced herself to laugh, a light tinkling sound in the heavy silence surrounding them. "But, we'll be the ultimate power couple," she cooed, hoping that her smile wasn't too bright, her carefree attitude too artificial. She ran a silver tipped finger along his jaw, "Besides, I've tasted the produce, perhaps I'd like to buy it after all."

For a moment, Vlad didn't smile back, his eyes dark with an intensity that was almost frightening. A flicker of apprehension went through Adze as she realised just how vulnerable a position she was in; naked and defenceless beneath the most powerful vampire that would ever exist. She hadn't thought about it like that before, she hadn't really considered the teenage vampire to be a viable threat. Then, just as suddenly, Vlad was chuckling with amusement. With one fluid movement, he covered her body with his, the hardness pressing against her thighs leaving her without any doubts as to his desire for her, his passionate kisses reassuring her that he was still keen to be her lover.

This time, Adze was determined to get her own way, this time she encouraged him to be rougher, harder, faster, this time she raked her nails down his back with the intention of drawing blood, finding his slight hiss of pain immensely satisfying. She had no hesitation in arching her body up against his, of throwing back her head invitingly to expose her throat to his fangs, of pressing her hand firmly against the back of his head and guiding his mouth to an area usually forbidden for vampires. When, he finally gave in, his fangs piercing through her soft, previously unblemished skin, the pain burned through her entire body, streaks of fire entering her through the broken flesh and coursing through her cold veins. It hurt, oh Buffy, it hurt more than she could ever have imagined! And yet, she could feel the power and darkness of the Chosen One's First Bite flowing into her, filling her, making her glorious and indestructible. As Vlad's fangs worked their way even deeper into her flesh and his body grinded against hers in a savage rhythm, the mixture of pain and pleasure reached a point of almost unbearable exquisiteness and Adze found herself crying out her lover's name.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Apologies for no DiF this weekend. I'm trying to finish up Autonomy. I don't know how so many brilliant authors manage to write multiple fics at the same time, I must concede defeat and admit it is beyond me!**_

_**Thanks so much for the reviews on the last chapter, should warn you this is dark and there is some swearing. Should only have two chapters left.**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 12**

The regrets began almost as soon as Vlad pushed his body off hers and began to get dressed. His movements were abrupt and hurried; it was as if he couldn't wait to get away from her. When he turned to lift his shirt up from the floor, she noticed with a sudden start that his face was grim; the gorgeous mouth which had given her such pleasure was turned downwards as if he was annoyed or upset. But, of course, he would be, he had just bitten her in the heat of the moment, given her his First Bite without meaning to. The Dracula brat believed in playing by the rules, doing things properly and honourably, no doubt he would be seething at his lack of control.

What a pity. It was all she could do to keep a smug smile from spreading across her lips. She was the Chosen One's First Bite! Now, she had powers beyond her wildest dreams, she would be the second most powerful vampire to walk the earth, possibly the only if Vlad continued to act in such a sulky manner. She chose to ignore his childish fit of pique; it wasn't as if he was the only one who was going to have to unlive with the consequences. After all, she was the one who had been bitten. Hellfire, it hurt. Even now, the puncture wounds on her throat were stinging. No wonder breathers were so whiny about being bitten. As she pulled herself upright into a sitting position, she found herself feeling unsettled by the sensation of a cool liquid trickling over her skin. She raised a hand to the throbbing injury, wincing slightly as her hand encountered damaged flesh and a slippery, wet substance which could only be her blood. As her fingers explored the marks that the Chosen One had left on her throat, panic began to rise deep inside her. The bite was far too high up on her neck; there was no way that it could be hidden discreetly beneath a high collar. Far more importantly, the location signified dominance and possession rather than the pathetic, lovesick sentiments that Vlad had hinted so blatantly at just a few hours before.

He still hadn't spoken. Frowning, she watched as he began buttoning up his shirt, long, pale fingers moving deftly over plastic and cotton. She was tempted to approach him, wind her arms around his waist, press her lips to his neck, pull him back onto the floor but there was something about his stance, the rigid set of his shoulders, which put her off that idea. With growing unease, she leapt gracefully to her feet and began pulling on the gown that he had been so eager for her to discard. Something was telling her that it would be a good idea to get dressed, to face him on equal terms. For Lucifer's sake, how angry could he be? It wasn't as if she had pressurised him into it, he had wanted it just as much as her. More in fact. He was the one who turned up with a bottle of blood at her door.

"It was a perfectly adequate First Bite." Adze couldn't keep the barbed edge out of her voice as she zipped up her dress. When Vlad didn't answer, she continued speaking; it took considerable effort for her to keep her tone sweet and light. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. It was biting with consent, isn't that the new terminology? I wanted you, you wanted me, there's nothing wrong with that. Our fathers will be slightly annoyed but that's not what matters." She turned to face him; he was just standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, his face completely blank of any emotion. For some reason that frightened her more than if he had been scowling or frowning. "What matters is us." She did her best to keep calm and smile patiently at him but frankly his behaviour was really starting to creep her out.

She watched as Vlad ran his tongue over his fangs in an appraising manner. She decided to change tact. "Feels good, doesn't it?" She took a tentative step towards him, he didn't back away. "To have your fangs slice through skin and flesh?"

Vlad looked up at her from beneath his dark eyelashes. He nodded slowly, a pained look flitting across his features.

Adze once again found herself having to suppress a triumphant smirk. "It's meant to," her voice was huskier now, full of wicked promises and not all of them related to sex. "If biting me felt good then you can only imagine how much better it would be with a breather. Their fragile skin, oh so penetrable, the heat of their flesh against your fangs, oh the hot richness spurting into your mouth..." Adze let out an exaggerated sigh of pleasure, noting how Vlad was struggling to retract his fangs, "It tastes better than you could ever imagine."

Vlad deliberately looked away.

Adze sashayed towards him, confidence beginning to swell up inside her. She should have known that Vlad, with all his strange breather morals and principles, would react badly to his First Bite. The Dracula brat was so keen, so desperate to cling to a humanity he never had in the first place. Who better than her, a vampire princess with millennia of cruelty and malice bred into her bones, to guide him into the dark?

"There's still time to change your mind about the wedding peasant," she teased, "It's a fine Ramanga tradition." She reached out a hand to trail her fingers down his chest. She wasn't adverse to using her charm or her body to win around a sulky Grand High Vampire. She gasped in pain as Vlad's hand clenched around her wrist.

"There won't be a wedding," he replied coldly, his voice sounding thicker and grittier than usual.

Adze fought down the panic that was once again rising inside her. She was a Ramanga, a fierce and proud descendent of royalty and warriors, she would show no fear to any enemy. "Why not?" With her free hand, she gestured down at the cushions and blankets scattered on the floorboards. "I know you enjoyed that."

Vlad's gaze slid over to the place where they had been naked just a few minutes go. "Yes," he said softly, malice oozing from every syllable. "You're a good fuck, I'll give you that."

Adze made a sound of outrage and tried to pull away from the firmness of his grasp.

"Not as good as you are at lying though," Vlad continued calmly, as if they were discussing nothing more significant than the price of coffins. He let go of her suddenly, causing Adze to stumble back a few steps, and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. He withdrew something and tossed it with violence onto the floor where it bounced a few times before landing on the edge of the blanket.

At the sight of the jewellery box, sheer terror froze Adze to the spot. Her mind went blank as she desperately scrabbled for explanations and denials. At the same time, questions were beginning to bubble up inside her head. How had he found it? Had her father betrayed her in an attempt to save his own neck? Did he know the truth behind their origin? Was this situation in any way salvageable?

Even as she opened her mouth, Vlad was holding up a hand in warning. "I know everything."

Amidst the panic and the fear, a more familiar, more useful emotion was beginning to emerge. Rage. He thought he could intimidate her, use her for his own means, well the Vladimir Dracula was an idiot. He had just forgotten the most important thing that had happened in his entire unlife, well maybe merging with his reflection had been notable but the act which had taken place in this room... he had given her his First Bite. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she could feel the darkness and power that he had accidentally bestowed on her. It didn't matter if they no longer married, it didn't even matter if her father's plot to destroy the Chosen One failed, she still had _this_. She would show Vlad, her bullying father, she would show them all, she would not be dominated any longer. Triumph, glorious and heady, surged through her as she raised her hand and flung a mass of glittering flames at her ex-fiancé.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Ah my lovely reviewers, you asked for more so here you go! This also comes with nasty D!V. Last chapter, only the epilogue to go now.**_

_**Hope you enjoy!**_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 13**

Vlad swatted the fireball away as if it was nothing more than a mildly irritating fly. The flames landed on Adze's wardrobe where they began busily consuming the wooden structure and rich fabrics within it.

Adze was staring down at her hand, a look of confusion sweeping across her face. "But... why?" She looked up at him, her dark eyes still beautiful, her chest heaving up and down as panic began to win the battle with her, admittedly admirable, self-control.

The first time he had seen her, it had been like a tidal wave, desire slamming though his body at the sight of those pouting lips, the curves of her body, everything about Adze was to a man's pleasing. Now, Vlad loathed the sight of her. He felt nothing but hatred for the vampiress who had been so willing to destroy him even when he had given her a way out. No, especially because he had given her an opportunity to escape and she had considered it, he had seen the calculating look in her eyes, he could even pinpoint the exact moment when she had decided against his offer. It had been there in the blackening of her eyes, the tiniest curl of her lips. She had chosen this path of power and domination, she only had herself to blame for what happened next.

"Oh yes." The steadiness of his own voice surprised Vlad. It looked as though all of Bertrand's coaching had finally paid off. "My First Bite." He allowed himself a sarcastic chuckle. "About that-"

Adze didn't give him a chance to finish. "Who?" she demanded, advancing on him angrily. "Who did you give it to?"

Vlad gave her an exaggerated shrug. "Can't remember." He tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his fangs. "It might be Esmeralda; my former mistress, she liked it rough," he said in a confidential tone. "Oh, actually, might be Bertrand. You know I should have suspected that there was a reason why he was willing for me to practise biting techniques on him." Watching the mixture of horror and rage on Adze's face was the most fun he had in a long time. He snapped his fingers together as if he had just recalled an important memory. "No, no, I think I remember. When I was twelve, Dad insisted that I should bite the bunny. _Damn._ I bet he regrets that now." The look on Adze's face was absolutely priceless. Vlad tutted scornfully. "Oh silly Princess." He took a couple of step forward and lifted a hand to stroke her face, deliberately keeping his touch gentle as his fingers caressed her cheek, as his thumb traced the outline of that gorgeously sensual mouth. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "There's no such thing as a First Bite."

Moving back, he made sure that he sounded disinterested, bored even as he spouted the information that Bertrand had been able to find so easily. No wonder his tutor complained about the lack of scholarly habits amongst vampires. "It's a myth dating back to the eleventh century. Prince Alexi of the Zmeu clan claimed, falsely of course, to be the Chosen One. He had a penchant for biting his own kind, particularly beautiful females. He found that if he claimed that his First Bite would bestow special powers on the recipient he got to stick his fangs into whoever he wanted. When the bitten vampires found out the truth there was a rather nasty incident involving a garlic pit. I think most vampires know it's complete and utter nonsense but clearly the Ramanga clan don't bother to check their facts." Vlad sniggered contemptuously. "I mean really? My_ First Bite_?"

Adze stared at him, shock and disbelief written all over her face. Her hand reaching up, subconsciously or not, to touch the bite marks on her throat. "You did this to me and you knew?" Her words were a furious hiss.

Vlad affected another casual shrug. "You were just so eager," he replied with false innocence. "Oh Princess, would you like to know what I was tracing on your body earlier?" He could see that the question threw her as her beautiful face became marred with a frown. He watched as she impatiently turned the words over in her head, an exasperated sigh showing that she thought it was all simply an irrelevance "Vs. Veni. Vidi. Voro." He emphasised each word of the infamous Latin saying. "Not necessarily in that order but still," he smirked wickedly, "not bad for a day's work."

Adze flew at him. All talons and fangs, screaming obscenities as she rained blows down on his body. Such was Vlad's numbness that he barely winced at the violence Adze was so determined to inflict on him. Suddenly the room was full of people: Ramanga and Bertrand pulling Adze away from him Smoke filling the room as Renfield sloshed water over the charred remains of the wardrobe. Accusations and demands filling the air. The Count positively bouncing up and down with excitement at the wound on Adze's neck. Bertrand taking a protective stance between Vlad and everyone else. Ramanga roaring threats at the Count and shaking his daughter by the shoulder even as he tried to nudge the incriminating evidence of the jewellery box underneath the nearest cushion. Ingrid surveying it all with an expression of bored contempt.

Vlad felt disconnected, he wasn't sure he was still in his own body, it felt as though he was floating above everyone, looking down at the chaos below. None of it seemed real to him. He would rather like to go back to his coffin now and just stay there. Lie and stare up at the interlocking metal components and try not to think of the bloodstained images which haunted his dreams.

The cold weight of Bertrand's hand on his shoulder brought Vlad back down to earth. He snapped back into action, ignoring the querying look that his tutor was giving him. "The wedding is off," he stated with a strength that he didn't really feel.

"But my daughter?" Ramanga practically shoved Adze at him, his face contorted with fury and disgust.

Vlad deliberately kept his gaze away from Adze and the dark red blood which was still trickling down her skin. "Is spoiled goods now." He felt Bertrand's fingers tighten by the slightest fraction on his shoulder. A sign that the older vampire disapproved? Or a sign that he was urging Vlad on in his cruelty? Vlad was too exhausted right now to even contemplate trying to interpret the complexity of his tutor's thoughts. He stepped forward, breaking free of Bertrand's hold, to confront the powerful vampire who had plotted his demise. "You attempted to commit Grand High Treason."

Ramanga took a step backwards. "No, your Highness," he began protesting in vain even as the Count took a snap at his neck from the safety of his position in the corner.

Vlad didn't even have to try to be menacing as he advanced on the clan leader. The darkness inside him was still licking Adze's blood off his lips, still relishing the sensation of biting another person. It took every last vestige of Vlad's willpower to stop himself from simply dusting the traitors in front of him. He smiled at Ramanga; an icy, malevolent smirk, that made the six hundred year old warrior retreat even further. "This is how we are going to clear up this little mess."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Apologies for the delay in posting this – life got in the way I'm afraid. And further apologies for the fact that this is not actually the final post but that there is just one more to come. Should warn you that this chapter is very dark. **_

_**Hope you enjoy it. **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 14**

He still couldn't look at Adze's throat. It had only been a few hours since he had sank his fangs into that previously unblemished and perfect skin yet it felt more like decades. Perhaps, it was because everything had shifted so rapidly in that short time span. The actors in this little play of power had found themselves being pushed into new and somewhat unexpected roles. A beautiful vampiress of impeccable lineage now ruined by allowing herself to be marked as a possession - outside the protection of a legal ceremony. A once great Clan Leader coerced into giving up his elevated position on the High Council only to appoint a sworn enemy as his replacement. A father whose duplicity and attempts at manipulation had seemingly been rewarded with glory and a new title. This was his future, a life full of ruthless politics and bloodthirsty opponents, of machinations and whispered threats, of toying with people's ambitions and fears.

Outwardly, it appeared as though Vlad had gotten everything he wanted out of this situation. He was no longer going to be forced into a loveless but politically strategic union. He had pushed the Count to the very edge of their father-son relationship and forced the older vampire to acknowledge just how much he stood to lose if he ever pulled a stunt like this again. With the threat of Grand High Treason hanging over him and his daughter's profound disgrace, Ramanga was at risk of losing it all - his properties, his wealth, his reputation and his position as clan leader, unless he did what he was told. In time, Ramanga's arrogance would once again lead him into conflict with the Draculas but for now at least one of Vlad's most powerful opponents was subdued and compliant.

Adze's disgrace was a price that Vlad had chosen to pay. He had known exactly what he was doing in her coffin-room, exactly how to manipulate her, make her beg him to do the unforgivable, make her acquiesce to his needs and believe that it was all because she wanted it. Having that power, that influence, over someone was a heady sensation.

Which was exactly why he couldn't look at her. As his father and Ramanga grimly acted out the scenario of dear friends departing ways after a convivial visit, Vlad stared blankly ahead, keeping his gaze focused on the black, feather plumes of the Ramangas' carriage, barely listening to his father's gleeful declarations about the coronation in a few weeks' time. Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of Adze's graceful figure standing, head hooded and bowed, beside her father. He wished that it was guilt that stopped him from turning his head in her direction, that he felt something, anything, close to remorse for his actions but the truth was he didn't. All he felt was a dark surge of triumph, he _liked_ what he had done and this sickened him right to his very core.

However, it seemed that Adze was not willing to go silently into the predawn with her father. As Ramanga turned his back to step up into the carriage – such an old fashioned form of transport – Adze took the opportunity to step forward into Vlad's line of vision. When Vlad looked away with deliberate disinterest, she leant forward to hiss in his ear, words so softly spoken that only he could hear them. "For someone who is so concerned with protecting their autonomy, you don't even seem to realise who is the real threat."

Vlad turned his head sharply to look at her.

Adze cast a meaningful glance over his shoulder at the French tutor who was standing exactly where he should be. Behind his master.

Ah Bertrand. Of course, she would try to undermine the vampire who had assisted so meticulously with bringing about her downfall. The gentlemanly thing to do would have been to resume his former stance and blank expression but Vlad no longer gave a damn about such societal niceties. Instead, he let his gaze slowly drift to the puncture wounds in her beautiful throat, still dark red and raw although no longer oozing blood. The sight of the damage that his fangs had caused sent a thrill of vicious pleasure through Vlad. Not only had he done that to her but he had enjoyed it. Enjoyed it far too much. As he brought his gaze back up to meet her eyes, black and blazing with hatred, he allowed the corners of his mouth to turn up slightly in the barest hint of a smirk.

As if she wasn't even worth his full contempt.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Thanks very much for the reviews on the last chapter, it's reassuring to know that people are still reading this after the long gaps between posting. One more chapter to go... I know, I know, I keep saying it but this time I really mean it. **_

_**With major thanks to the wonderful HopeCoppice who more than helped me with the development of Annabel Rogers. **_

_**xo**_

**Chapter 15**

The nightmares came back in the grey gloom of that winter morning. For the first time in almost a fortnight, Vlad found himself awakening suddenly, drenched in sweat, shaking and aching with a hunger so vicious and fierce that it was twisting his guts. Images of blood and fire burned through his mind before fading into the darker shades of his imagination. As he slowly drew himself up into a sitting position and picked up the bottle of soy waiting by his coffin's side, he realised that there was a pattern. The nightmares would come and go but they were always more vivid, more real after he had done something particularly... unpleasant_._ As he rested his forehead against the cool glass exterior of his breakfast, he wondered if they were a warning, a reminder that he couldn't keep succumbing to the evil inside, that a price would be paid by the world if he continued to indulge himself in acts of cruelty and vengeance.

It took only a few large gulps to empty the dark green bottle of its contents. Decisively, Vlad leapt out of his coffin and headed to the shower. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off the events of the past twenty four hours and he knew exactly where he could get it.

* * *

The pale winter sunshine filtered through the window and danced along the blonde strands of Annabel Rogers' neat ponytail. Leaning against the doorframe, far away from the dangers of the daylight, Vlad cast an appreciative glance over the schoolgirl in front of him. Rogers was _fit_, that short skirt showed off her perfect backside and the long slim legs which had been tightly wrapped around him on more than a few occasions now. The fact that a year ago, before he emerged with his reflections, she wouldn't have glanced at him twice was something he tried not to think too deeply about. It wasn't as if it really mattered, no, things with Annabel were uncomplicated, no emotions, no friendship, just sex, most of which was pretty hot even if she did tend towards the bossy side. Someday, he would really have to address that tendency of hers to talk back.

"Don't you look good enough to eat?" His words were laced with a threat she couldn't possibly begin to understand and it amused him to see her react so casually. Straightening up, flicking back her sleek ponytail before turning around from her task of studying the library shelf to face him with a slightly bored expression.

"Count." She gave him a disdainful look, her refined tones slightly cooler than usual.

Vlad didn't move from his position. His gaze trailed down over her unnecessarily tight blouse, she did so like to showcase her assets, her slim waist and all the way along those fine legs before finally flitting back to her face. "Fancy a fuck?"

Annabel made a sound of disgust before turning back to the library shelf, apparently engrossed in textbooks on the Soviet Union. An odd choice given that she wasn't even studying it. After a minute or two of tense silence, she spoke again. "Aren't you supposed to be busy with a family matter?" If he wasn't mistaken there was a hint of bitterness in her words. Ah, but of course, even someone like Rogers could feel resentful over being ignored for a couple of weeks.

A sly chuckle escaped Vlad's lips. "Oh, that's all sorted now." It was all he was offering in explanation, he didn't owe her anymore than that and the fact that she knew this obviously didn't stop her from resenting it. He could sense the battle taking place inside her, pride and anger warring with her teenage hormones. She may well be annoyed with him but was it enough to make her turn down an afternoon of getting laid? "Nevermind." He deliberately kept his tone casual, as if he wasn't remotely bothered by her apparent rejection. He began to saunter off, mentally counting down from ten. He hadn't even reached five before Annabel's posh voice rang out behind him.

"Four fifteen. Outside Mr Grant's classroom." Her expensive perfume wafted around him as she pushed past. "Some of us have to run a Debating Society." With that parting shot and another toss of her ice-blonde hair, Annabel strode off to attend whatever class the bell was ringing for.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Thanks very much for all your reviews. This is the final chapter – finally! In terms of the Darkness is Falling timeline, this takes place shortly before the flashback events of Chapter 30. **_

_**Hope you enjoy!**_

_**xo**_

**Autonomy 16**

Dark head bent, surrounded by statute books and papers, Bertrand's strong fingers gripped the feather quill tightly as he scribbled notes across the creamy parchment. No, not scribbled, that word denoted a certain lack of control, an element of carelessness. There was nothing about her brother's tutor that was out of control, nothing that was left to chance by this scheming, treacherous creature. He didn't even bother to lift his head from his work as she entered the room. His lack of acknowledgement only added fuel to the fire burning inside her.

It was her anger that made her seek to provoke him. Picking up one of the heavy tomes from his desk, Ingrid flicked through the pages with feigned disinterest. Walking gracefully across the room, she was aware of his gaze upon her, perhaps the sensual swaying of her hips had caught his attention or perhaps he was just irritated at the unnecessary violence with which she turned the fragile pages of the book. Whatever the reason, the scratching of the feather quill against paper did not falter even for a second.

Ingrid was in no hurry to divulge her information. She took her time, her eyes carefully scanning the contents of the book in her hands. Property rights as defined by vampire laws and traditions. How intriguing that her brother should be interested in such a matter. She would have to keep a watchful eye on that. After a few minutes of reading, she spoke, her voice sounding unnaturally loud and harsh in the quiet space of Bertrand's study. "I have been conversing with Sarah Holmwood."

There was a momentary pause, a lull in Bertrand's note-taking, as he processed the name of England's oldest and most distinguished vampire clan.

Ingrid flicked past another couple of pages, her rough handling of the book finally causing a page to rip. The sound of paper tearing filled the sudden silence between her and the ambitious vampire who sought to influence her brother's policies. "She had some rather interesting information about her father."

There was the rattle of a quill being placed back in its pot of ink, the smooth sliding of metal over wood as a drawer was opened and, most interestingly of all, the rustle of exquisitely expensive paper. Half turning around, Ingrid noted the Dracula emblem on the pile of crisp, white papers now sitting on Bertrand's desk. She raised a single, inquiring eyebrow knowing already what those papers probably contained. What they had better contain.

"The documentation for your seat on the High Council," Bertrand confirmed with a grim smile.

Ingrid closed the heavy book with a loud snap. "I'm no longer sure that I want to assist my brother." Using her vampire speed, she covered the short distance to Bertrand's desk in less time than it took a mortal to blink. Unceremoniously, she dropped the tome of legislation onto the smooth, leather-covered surface of the desk. It made a satisfying 'thud' knocking the pot of ink onto its side, causing loose papers to flutter up into the air and a couple of books to slide untidily from their previously neat pile. She always enjoyed messing up Bertrand's attempts at control and order and her enjoyment most certainly extended to his belongings. "I don't agree with what you did to Adze." Her words came out in a menacing hiss as she leant across the chaos of his desk.

Bertrand's face was completely impassive, no hint of emotion in those vivid blue eyes as he sat back in his seat. Only the rigid set of his shoulders gave away his intense annoyance at her actions. "What happened with Princess Adze was entirely the choice of the Chosen One."

Ingrid laughed scornfully. "Yes, your precious Chosen One," she mocked. "Do you know what he's up to right now?"

Bertrand reached out to correct the stand of the ink pot before answering. "He's in the Count's study. Engaging in inappropriate behaviour with that breather girl he thinks we know nothing about." A smile of amusement briefly flickered across Bertrand's lips. "You think that you can surprise me Ingrid Dracula? I know everything about your brother, every action he indulges in, every moment of weakness, every impulse of mercy or anger."

His arrogance left Ingrid seething with rage, not least because she suspected that his words were true. The French vampire had far too much influence over her little brother and she feared that she had inadvertently helped him gain that power. "You can't possibly know everything." Her words were common sense and yet the scathing look Bertrand gave her made her feel like the childish one.

He returned his attention to the papers before him, moving books and other materials out of the way of the black ink which was slowly spreading across his desk. "Sometimes, if you truly want something you have to make sacrifices." Bertrand lifted the pile of papers relating to her election onto the High Council. He held them out to her, his hand steady, his gaze all too knowing as he watched her principles battle with her lust for power.

There was a very long moment in which their eyes met, azure clashing with indigo, before Ingrid snatched the papers from his hand. She had suffered too much in the past, given up too much already for this and she was damned if she would let herself fall at the last hurdle. Once she was properly elected to her position on the High Council, she would be able to change things, to make the vampire world a better place for women, to advance the cause of vampiress liberation. And if this current compromising of her beliefs sickened her, then she would work all the harder to achieve her goals later.

As she tucked the papers carefully away under her tailored jacket, Ingrid shot Bertrand an embittered look. "And what sacrifices would you be willing to make?" she sneered nastily. As if a man like Bertrand would ever have to compromise his integrity, ever be in a position of powerlessness, ever know what it felt like to fight for recognition every night of his unlife. Aristocratic vampires like du Fortunesa didn't have to sacrifice anything for power.

Bertrand looked up from the task of clearing his desk and it was all Ingrid could do to stop herself from stepping backwards at the look of intensity in his eyes. His bright blue depths were burning with something like a religious fervour, an almost fanatical devotion, as he answered her question.

"_Everything_."


	17. Thank You

_**Thanks very much for reading this fic. If you've enjoyed it then please do check out some of my other fics. Reviews and feedback are always gratefully received. **_

_**Thank you to the following people for reviewing:**_

**HopeCoppice**

**HyaHya**

**TheDancingSock**

**LiveAndLoveLife**

**Honalooloo**

**The Potters of the Future**

**HermioneandMarcus**

_**A special thank you to HopeCoppice, Honalooloo and HyaHya for being regular reviewers. I probably wouldn't have completed it without your encouragement. **_

_**Much vampy love to you all.**_

_**xo**_


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